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by Oasis Blackmore
Summary: From the moment of their first kiss, all Drake wanted was more. Independence Day fic. Slash.


**A/N: Happy Independence Day!**

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Their first kiss was Oprah's fault. It was in the heat of the moment. It was plastered all over the Internet, thanks to Megan. And it was nothing. Hell, Josh claimed he didn't even remember it when Drake showed him the webpage, "Boobs in Love." Closing the browser, Drake agreed that it was one of those moments that didn't count, that, apart from the upcoming week of snickers and whispers from classmates, would be forgotten.

Only, Drake was lying.

Somewhere in the three seconds it lasted, that kiss sent electricity rocketing all the way down to Drake's toes and back, where it culminated in his lips, which he quickly wiped, surprised at his own reaction and thankful that Josh was too distracted by his backstage passes to notice.

If Drake Parker didn't know an amazing kiss, then no one did, but not even extended, tongue-on-tongue, back-of-throat moan-inducing kisses he'd had in the past had made him feel so stimulated, so alive, so . . . Drake's admittedly limited vocabulary didn't include the words necessary to describe the sensation Josh had caused, but the one word that did pop into his mind whenever the memory brushed with his consciousness was _more._

Drake spent weeks agonizing over how to trick Josh into doing _that_ again. He pondered it so much that he left little room for morality or disgust or fear to set in. It was simple really; Drake was a spoiled kid, an instant gratification kind of guy, and if he didn't get what he wanted _soon_, he was going to explode.

His first opportunity presented itself in the form of a magic show. It was rumored to be so much more exciting than Blaine Darby's performance a couple years back that tickets sold out within hours, two of which were purchased by Drake, along with backstage passes.

If he'd hoped to reenact the first smooch via similar circumstances, he was sorely disappointed, for while Josh did scream like a giddy little girl upon receiving the gift and crushed Drake in a brotherly hug, he made no move to kiss anything but his sacred tickets. Drake had never before been jealous of paper.

In the end, this plan failed in two ways. One, Drake didn't get what he wanted. Two, he subsequently was forced two sit through three hours of some guy pulling stuff out of his sleeves.

His second opportunity involved water--lots of it, when Drake pretended to be drowning the day he and Josh drove to the beach, with Megan tagging along at the behest of their parents.

In hindsight, it was a dumb idea. Drake had hoped that Josh would try and resuscitate him using mouth-to-mouth, but when Josh pulled him out of the water and onto the sand, he quickly assessed that Drake was, indeed, breathing just fine (Drake cursed Josh's CPR training and OR watching), and merely embraced him, declaring his terror and then switching to Angry Josh mode and reprimanding Drake for not being more careful.

Megan watched the whole incident with a knowing smile, and on the way home, Drake could barely focus on his driving because her unnerving smirk kept catching his eye in the rearview mirror.

When they returned, Josh unlocked the front door, and they all entered the house, heading up the stairs.

"Drake, can I see you in my room for a minute?" Megan inquired innocently as they went, and both boys stopped in their tracks.

"_Why_?" Drake asked, stepping closer to his brother.

"Yeah, what're you gonna do?" Josh interrogated defensively.

"I just want to . . . _talk_." Megan emphasized the word and gave Drake this look, this persuasive, promising look that almost made him trust her.

"Um . . . Okay, but if anything happens to me--"

"You'll be fine," Megan assured him calmly, passing them and going into her headquarters.

"Drake." Josh's concern made Drake's heart thump heavily.

"I'll be fine, dude," he repeated Megan's words, not sounding very certain. "But if I'm not back in half an hour, call someone," he added on second thought.

Megan's room, decorations fit for an angelic little princess without a hint of evil in her soul, was the antithesis of the girl herself, and she looked a more than a tad out of place, sitting on her purple bedspread and grinning wickedly.

"What do you want, Megan?" Drake cut to the chase as soon as he entered.

"Shut the door," Megan bossed, and in spite of his trepidation, Drake obeyed. "Have a seat." As she gestured at her desk chair, he sat down warily. "Drake, I think I know what's been bugging you lately."

"Bugging me?" Drake frowned.

"Oh, come on. Don't think I haven't noticed. You've been distracted ever since Josh's birthday."

Drake feigned skepticism. "Yeah? _How_?"

Megan just rolled her eyes. "You know how."

"Well, even if I have been distracted--and I _haven't_--what's it to you?" Drake raised an eyebrow pointedly.

Megan looked hesitant for a moment, as if considering her position. "This isn't easy for me to say," she declared, "but I . . . I want to help you."

"Help me?"

"Would you stop repeating everything I say as a question," Megan snapped, ordering more than asking. Drake shrugged apologetically, and she nodded her approval. "I want to help you hook up with Josh."

"Hook up with--" Drake halted conscientiously. "What makes you think that's what I want?"

"Your face, your voice, that little stunt you pulled today." Megan began smirking again. "I see everything, Drake. _Everything_."

Drake winced, somewhat embarrassed. "Okay, so maybe I sorta. . . Maybe you're right, but why do _you_ want to help?"

Again, Megan's reluctance was evident. "The truth is, I've been waiting for you two boobs to get together for a long time. Now, I know that's hard to believe, but think about it, and you'll understand."

Drake thought about it, and, knowing his sister, he immediately reached a conclusion. "Blackmail?"

"Exactly."

"Why're you telling me this?" Drake's suspicion outweighed his shock at her knowledge of his intentions.

"It's not blackmail if you don't know I know, and it's not blackmail if you guys aren't actually together. I figured helping you would be a win-win situation," Megan reasoned hopefully.

Drake weighed the pros and cons (for all of five seconds) and decided that he could use any available assistance in his endeavor. "So, what are you planning?"

"Oh, I don't have a plan, just some pointers."

Drake was slightly disappointed, seeing as he had completely run out of ideas. "Then, uh, what are your pointers?"

Megan grinned, satisfied with Drake's response to her offer. "First off, you've been going about this whole 'getting Josh to kiss you' thing the wrong way."

Threatened by just how much Megan knew, Drake demanded, "Well, how would _you_ do it?"

"_I_ wouldn't," Megan reminded him shrewdly, "but if I were _you_, I would try a more romantic approach."

"Romantic--" Drake caught himself. "Sorry. Uh, how do I do that?"

"Come on, Drake. I said I was gonna help you, not make it _easy_," Megan laughed.

"Like, flowers?" Drake tried.

"Oh yes, flowers are a sure way into any boy's heart," Megan mocked.

"Can I have a _hint_?" Drake asked desperately.

It was the thirtieth of June. Megan had no idea how Drake was overlooking one of the most romantic holidays (and, due to a love of explosives, her personal second favorite, beaten only by April Fool's Day) coming up in the very near future. "You need to reel him in with a _bang_," Megan suggested meaningfully.

"You mean--"

"I swear, if you say 'Shoot him?', I'll--"

"I wasn't gonna say that," Drake lied as his mind jumped to another, dirtier definition of the word. "I just don't know what you mean."

"What's the next holiday coming up?" Megan cued.

"I don't know," Drake admitted exasperatedly, already sick of Megan's so-called "help."

Of course Drake would lose track of dates during the summer; he only barely paid attention during the school year. "The Fourth of July, Drake," Megan relented irritably. "One of the biggest American holidays in existence."

"Oh . . . _Oh_!" Drake suddenly understood. "I get it! Thanks, Megan!" He got up from the swivel chair, about to hug his little sister but deciding against it when he saw her warning look. "I'll just . . . go . . ."

"You do that," Megan agreed grimly.

Drake shut the door behind him and headed to his and Josh's room with newfound confidence. He now had the beginnings of a plan, a plan that might actually work.

"Drake!" Josh jumped up from his bed and pulled Drake into his arms the moment he saw him. "I thought you were a goner! What'd she want?"

Drake gasped for air as he was released. "Jeez, Josh. She just wanted to talk about, you know, dating stuff." _Quick thinking, Parker._

Josh raised his eyebrows. "Dating stuff? With _you_?"

"_Yeah_." Drake drew out the word to make sure Josh knew it was the obvious answer. "C'mon. We all know I'm the ladies' man of the century."

"Yeah, but--"

"What's it matter? I'm fine. Let's watch T.V."

If Josh was suspicious, he didn't show it, and they were soon too engrossed in _Celebrities in an Elevator_ to discuss anything at all.

By the next morning, Drake had everything planned out. All he had to do was convince Megan to convince their mom and Walter to go to the fireworks show downtown, an easy task considering her still dubious willingness to help him, and he was set.

--

Drake's third opportunity was well-thought out. The Fourth of July came around with all the enthusiasm it deserved; fireworks tents that hadn't been present on the third had popped up overnight; and Walter, Audrey, and Megan were busy getting ready to go downtown.

"Dude, why aren't we going with them?" Josh asked Drake for the millionth time as they sat on the living room couch. "I heard the budget for the show is a lot bigger this year, so it'll probably be _awesome_."

"'Cause, man, I told you; I have a surprise for you. Don't worry about it," Drake answered nonchalantly, his nerves not about to get the best of him.

The rest of their family finally left, Megan nodding at Drake on her way out, and Josh started getting antsy. "Drake, what's the surprise?" he grilled childishly.

"Can't tell you till it gets dark," Drake dodged, grinning at how well his plan was going so far.

Josh had never dealt with the pressure of anticipation very well, and now was not an exception. He promptly began checking the windows for signs of darkness. The moment the sun disappeared over the horizon, he ran back to Drake, tugging on his arm. "Surprise?" he asked expectantly.

Drake smiled and allowed Josh to pull him from the sofa. "Okay, okay. Come on."

Excitement radiating from both parties, for very different reasons, Josh followed Drake around to the back of the house, where a tall ladder was set up against the wall.

Drake stepped to the side and looked at his stepbrother. "Go on up."

Now a little tentative, Josh climbed up the ladder, gasping when he reached the roof. Drake proceeded him, gratified by his whispers of awe.

"Drake . . ." Josh turned to him, obviously stunned, when he arrived at the top. "Did you set this up?"

Drake looked past his shoulder, admiring his own handiwork. "Yep."

On the roof were two foldable chairs, sitting side-by-side, with blankets, a table, and two bottles of Moca Cola. Really, it wasn't that romantic (yet), but with the sun rapidly setting, the light cut across the display and made it look much more appealing (and like it had taken much longer to assemble) than it was.

"Why . . . ?"

"Because," Drake responded simply, motioning for Josh to take his seat.

They sat together quietly, waiting for the subtle pops of Independence Day to grow louder, for the soft, sporadic glowing to increase, and Drake could definitely see why Megan had recommended this; if anything the bangs and whistles and sparks and flares of people burning their money for the sake of patriotism made the mood much more intense, and their position, alone on the roof, arms brushing on adjacent armrests, only served to accentuate their isolation.

"It's just you and me," Drake muttered as a large firework popped overhead, lighting up Josh's face and revealing his puzzled expression.

"Isn't it always?" he asked, something in his voice causing Drake's stomach to knot.

"Yeah, man. I guess," he said, pulling his eyes away from the explosions all around him to view Josh's reactions.

Only, Josh wasn't watching the fireworks.

"It _is_ just you and me," Josh repeated softly, deliberately, like he got it, like he knew.

And Drake felt this tingling feeling where his brain should have been as Josh's eyes darkened and his hand reached out and gripped the sleeve of Drake's shirt, pulling him closer.

As their lips met, pushing a searing heat to his extremities, as fireworks burst in the air all around them, the only thing Drake wanted was more of this kiss, more of this moment, more of his Josh._ More._


End file.
